I STIR IN my bed as my clock beeps repeatedly. It takes me a bit to realise what day it is.
Today's the day I go to Aether Archery Academy.
At the sudden revelation, I jumped out of bed. 5:45 AM, my alarm clock reads.
Shoot! I slept through my 1st and 2nd alarm!
A.A.A. is a hardcore school. It starts at 6:10 and ends at 3:45. That's 9 hours and 35 minutes of school.
And somehow the thought doesn't kill me inside.
I sit at the edge of my bed and stretch, then get up to shower.
I come out of my bathroom, a towel wrapped around my body and my hair dripping water onto the floor.
I look at my alarm clock. 5:48. My bus will be here in less than 15 minutes.
I take a cardboard box out of my closet and open it.
Yesterday after returning with arrowheads, my uniform was delivered with the parcel. It took all my self-control (which, let's be honest is not a lot) not to tear it open right then and there.
And today's the day I get to do so.
I tear open the package and stare in awe at the contents inside.
Inside is a white blouse, with a short red blazer. I trace my fingers along the rim of the golden buttons. The school mascot lies at the top in a corner, a vulture. I feel the rough edge of my leather skirt as I run my hand along it. I look at the thigh-high grey stockings. Even the pinstripe tie looks magnificent.
How exciting!
I mustn't dwell on this any longer. I have a bus to catch.
I throw on the blouse and shrug on my blazer. I have to sit down to put on my skirt. I think I got a size too small, it's far too tight. Oh well, I'll buy a new one for next semester.
"Jeong-min!!" My mom screams from downstairs. Oops, looks like I spent too long getting ready.
I quickly throw my bag together with everything I need for school—notebooks, mechanical pencils (0.5 is the only reasonable option), a water bottle, and a binder. They serve lunch there, so I shouldn't have to worry about that.
I bolt down the stairs, and run into the kitchen, almost slipping.
Note to self: I need to buy myself some slippers.
That shouldn't be much, considering the summer job I got. Was it the best? No. In fact, it was kind of the worst. I remember the first day on the job, I got burning hot coffee thrown onto me. I still have the burn marks.
I shudder as I focus on the present. Mom is in the kitchen cooking some bacon & eggs, yum.
Wait, she's cooking?
Mother never cooks! What is going on?
"Hey Mom," I say wearily.
"Hm? Oh hi, sweetheart! I'm making your favourite!!" She practically beams at me, and all of the sudden I feel faint. What happened to the Mom who threatened to throw her eyeshadow palette at me because the house was too warm?!
"Yay!" I exclaim. I'm pretty sure I accidentally said it a bit sarcastically, because my mom's smile falters. But only for a second.
I quickly rush to the basement to get my things. Plucking my quiver off the hook, and shoving my arrows and spare arrowheads inside, I run back upstairs with them. By the time I'm back in the kitchen, my mom has put a plate with scrambled eggs and bacon on the kitchen island. It looks delicious.
Sitting on one of the stools (they're spinny!!), I peer into it. My mom rarely cooks, but she's really good at cooking.
"Can I…?" I begin, already foaming at the mouth.
Mom nods, and I waste no time stabbing my fork into a piece of the bacon and plopping it into my mouth. It practically melts.
As I'm off in a dream world where everything is bacon & eggs, I hear a bus honk.
My bus!!
My food!?!?
Quickly snatching some bread from the cabinets, I make a bacon 'n egg sandwich. It's messy, but whatever. Sliding the quiver onto me, I pick up my back and race out the house.
I stumble onto my driveway, looking around frantically.
There it is, I think to myself. I can make it.
Another note to self: Never, ever, try running in this skirt again! I can barely move my legs. I should have tried these earlier. I probably would've been able to exchange them or something.
Finally making it to the door, out of breath, I climb the steps. I flash a nice and sincere smile to the driver (no joke, he didn't drive off without me), and scan the bus.
First off, holy crap, this bus is huge! It's so spacious! I can actually walk in the aisle without difficulty!
Second of all, I might as well be the last person to get picked up, because there is NO space whatsoever. My cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Not a lot of people understand, but having to walk down the aisle to find a seat is the most embarrassing thing ever. Maybe I should've just asked my Mom to drive me.
…
Bad idea.
I try to at least look confident and not pathetic walking. There is (thank god) one open seat at the back of the bus
There's a boy sitting there. His dark brown hair cups his face, about half of it being held up by a clip. His skin is more on the paler side though. I hope he's eating well. He seems pretty tall as well.
He also looks strangely familiar.
Peeking at his phone, I can tell he's on his Notes app. Why I have no clue. Maybe he uses it like a journal?
Wearing headphones and looking out the window, I don't think he'll mind me sitting beside him at all.
Throwing on my best smile, I pipe up. "Excuse me? May I sit here?"
It actually takes a few seconds to notice me, but I swear the moment he did, his face lit up.
"It's you," he stammers. I raise an eyebrow.
"Have I met you before?" I ask.
His face diminishes, only a little though. "It's alright if you don't recognise me," he smiles. Now I wish I did, as it'd make this interaction way less awkward.
"So…" I motion to the empty space beside him.
He looks at the seat, then back at me, his face a bright scarlet red. "O–Of course! Please, have a seat!"
Putting my quiver into the overhead compartment (I know right? What kind of school bus even has those!?)I sit down and slide my backpack underneath the seat in front of me.
The boy continues to stare at me, that glint still in his eyes. I look at my phone to distract me.
The bus shifts forward, and he suddenly speaks.
"My name is Fran!" He suddenly says, "You're Jeong-min Yeon, correct?"
My eyes snap up to meet his. That's actually fucking creepy, and I'm not apologising for my language. How in the name of Jesus Christ does he know my name!?
"How do you know that?" I ask him sceptically.
"O–Oh! I was a customer at Espresso Oasis!"
That is an obvious lie. I don't remember anyone that…wait.
"Were you the guy with the really bad Korean skills with orange hair?" I thought he looked like a clown, but he was asking for it. Where was he going with that neon hair?
Fran turns red and looks at his feet. "Mhm, that was me.."
I roll my eyes. Of course I have to sit next to him. I found him really strange. I caught him staring a lot of times, and he didn't even finish his Americano! He threw it out!
"Jeez, you're so weird," I mumble to myself.
He sits up straighter and pouts. My opinion seems to be really important to him. "I–I'm sorry!" He stammers. "I can change, I promise!"
I sigh. "There's no need. You being weird is…endearing in a way."
He lights up and laughs, and it feels nice. I feel happy that he's laughing.
"So, should I call you Jeong-min or Yeon?" He asks. I can tell he's genuinely interested.
I laugh. "Well, we are in the United States. You can continue calling me Jeong-min."
He nods, and smiles again. "What's your major?" He questions.
"I'm in Archery," I answered.
"Me too!" He squeaks. He holds out his hand, "Friends?"
I look at his hand, before clasping mines with his.
"Friends."